In Your Arms
by Alice Foxworth
Summary: We are all wondering what the heck happened after Sherlock's one-word response to Molly: "You." Here's a short fic of what might have happened if he didn't get her help to fake his death. Molly/Sherlock One-Shot


In Your Arms

"You."

The one word caused her heart to drop to her stomach.

He was close enough for her to feel his breath. She swallowed nervously, even though any movement took all of her concentration and she wanted her focus to be on him.

He stepped even closer. He was now only a few inches away from Molly, who's heart beat faster with every second.

"Molly..." his voice delicately floated across the slowly growing smaller gap and into Molly's ears, giving her goosebumps.

"Sherlock, why now?" She said softly. He hadn't ever shown the slightest evidence of anything like this before.

"Molly, you are invaluable to me and I have failed to recognize your importance until now. You know me better than anyone." He paused after this statement as if to emphasize it. "Please Molly..." he broke off once more and rested his forehead on Molly's, his eyes closing, finally closing the gap with a simple, but electrifying touch.

"What do you need?" Molly asked a final time and got the answer she wanted. Sherlock bent his head down further and placed his lips softly, but firmly against hers.

It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it held more meaning than the world. Molly found herself too spellbound to respond and instead allowed Sherlock to deepen the kiss himself. He pulled away after only a few seconds, but it had seemed like eternity to Molly.

She looked up to see Sherlock's eyes closed, savoring the feeling of the moment between them. She couldn't help but let her stomach flip and her knees weaken a little, but not enough to cause her to fall. Sherlock stood back up and opened his eyes to meet Molly's gaze. He took a deep breath and swallowed.

"I just wanted you to know." He said, his voice surprisingly strong. He stepped toward the door and opened it and took one step outside.

"Know what?" Molly asked, her voice cracking and weak.

"You mean the world to me."

And with those six words, he was gone.

The next day, Molly woke up late. She stretched and yawned before swinging her legs to the side of the bed, upsetting Toby's position by the spot where her feet had been. He mewed his angry response and moved to the other side of the bed.

She sat for a while, remembering Sherlock's words from the night before. 'You mean the world to me.'

Had he meant it? Did he really love her? She shivered just thinking about it.

A ding from her phone startled her back to the present and she pulled the device off the charger and opened the text from John.

'Just a magic trick.'

She wrinkled her brow. What was a magic trick? What had he meant?

* * *

She set her coffee down on the counter and grabbed the newspaper. The headline immediately caught her eye. 'Suicide of Fake Genius'.

For a second, she froze, losing a steady breathing pattern. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

When she regained her breath, she read the whole article, which described the jump from the top of Bart's that morning. With a jolt, she realized it was her job today to look at the bodies. She ran to her room and quickly pulled on trousers and a shirt before dashing out the door to catch a cab to Bart's. Usually she would have walked, but today was a waste-no-time sort of day.

When she arrived, she skirred to the mortuary to find only two new bodies on file for her to look over.

Sherlock's body wasn't there. She wondered if someone else had duty for his body. Maybe the police were examining it?

She got off from work early and rushed home to curl up on the couch with Toby sitting on her lap. Maybe she'd find a book to read or a movie to watch.

* * *

She proceeded to do so, finding a mystery novel fitting and sat on the couch with a cup of tea and began to read.

She hadn't gotten far before Toby hopped up on the couch beside her. She reached over to stroke his fur, inviting him over to her lap.

A knock on her front door cased Toby to jump, but Molly smiled. She closed her book and set it on the coffee table next to the now-empty mug. She stood and walked to the door.

She took a deep breath before opening the door and pulling the surprised, curly-haired, 'dead' detective into a kiss far more passionate than the one in the hospital. Sherlock, unlike Molly, was quick on his toes and kissed her back, responding pleasantly to the sign of affection. When Molly stepped back, Sherlock gave her a look of confusion.

"How did you know I wasn't-"

"You told me something last night."

"I told you a lot of things last night."

"But you said one thing in particular."

"And what was that?" He combed his fingers through her hair.

"That I know you better than anyone else." Molly replied with a smirk. Sherlock smiled back.

"So, what do you need?"

Sherlock's grin widened and he wrapped his hand around her back and pulled her closer to him, also closing the door behind him.

"I have everything I need right here."

A meow sounded from below, followed by a furry body rubbing against Sherlock's leg, signaling Toby's appreciation for the compliment.

Molly laughed, wrapped her own arms around Sherlock's neck and pulled him back into a kiss. This kiss could last forever, because she agreed with him.

Everything she needed was right here in her arms.


End file.
